by May Dawson
I could never go back to my old life: I’d never go back to my apartment above the dojo, to life with Liam and to being normally miserable at high school and hanging out with Kate and my friends.
I hadn’t liked life at the academy much, but suddenly I hated the idea of having everything change all over again.
“Maybe.” His jaw flexed. “They weren’t trying to kill you, it’s true. It would’ve been safer for them to just end this with a bullet. Maybe they want something. Now we just have to find out if it’s something we’re willing to give them.”
“Don’t you mean whether I’m willing?” If Tris, Cade, and Nix weren’t mixed up with me, life would continue as normal for them at the academy.
“We’re in this together,” he said. “Take the highway.”
“Why?” I demanded, but I took the on-ramp to my right. Nix leaned with me, his body moving perfectly in tune with mine. He held me lightly, his hands cupping my hips, but the contact felt good.
“Because the highway takes us south, and we’re going south,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t asking about the highway, but then, Nix probably knew that. He just didn’t want to answer my questions.
Then we were in the rush and wind of the highway, and we couldn’t talk anyway.
I held onto my burning question as we drove for the next few hours. We left the highway for country roads, and on the long, empty swathes of gray as we passed farms, we could tell we weren’t being followed anymore.
“Take this right,” he said, and we took a long, gravel country road to a cabin hidden deep in the forest.
“I don’t understand,” I said as soon as I cut the engine in the driveway. I’d waited to ask this question for two hours. “If the Hunters are the good guys, why are they doing this to us?”
“They don’t believe we’re the good guys.” His arms were still wrapped tightly around me, and he squeezed me once—maybe subconsciously—before his grip loosened.
I felt cold without him, and that realization made my heart beat faster.
“How are you so calm?” I demanded.
Nix fought for the Hunters; he’d do anything to protect the innocent. How could he stand being treated so callously by the people he saw as his own?
The unfairness of it all burned on my skin.
“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he said. “I know who I am.”
“That must be nice,” I muttered as I got off the bike.
I headed for the cabin, my feet crunching over gravel, but there was no sound of footsteps following. I turned to find him with his arms crossed over his powerful chest.
“What are you talking about?” he asked bleakly.
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Oh, come on.” He leaned against the bike, apparently unwilling to move unless I opened up to him. “We’re real grown-ups now, Deidra. You can’t angst at me and then refuse to have a conversation about it.”
“I think I’m allowed some angst,” I shot back. “I just found out that an evil witch is my father, and that my mother was a victim—”
A muscle ticked in Nix’s jaw. Was it for the reminder that Truby, the witch who killed his family, was my father?
“Your mother walked away from Truby, somehow, and raised you,” he said. “She sounds like a survivor to me. Not a victim.”
“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“No,” he said. “But none of that changes who you are, anyway.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“You’re not Truby’s,” he said. “You belong to yourself.”
“You don’t look at me differently?” My voice came out brittle.
“Jesus.” Nix straightened as he swore, raking his hand through his hair. “You really think that?”
“You have every reason to hate him, and now you know I—”
While I was speaking, Nix closed the distance between us. I broke off as suddenly he towered over me. He was frowning, his cool blue eyes lit with intensity.
Without hesitation, he caught me around the waist, pulling me close.
I looked up at him in surprise, my lips parting.
Nix pressed his lips to mine.
It was a deep, soulful kiss. I kissed him back, losing myself in the heat of his embrace. His lips caressed mine, nudging them open, and I slipped the tip of my tongue against the unexpected softness of his lower lip. The two of us traded kisses as my hands roamed up the hard lines of his body to rest on his chest. His heart beat fast beneath my palm.
He broke apart to ask me, “Any more stupid questions?”
I stared up at him. “You’re not very romantic.”
But he was a great kisser.
The faintest smile curved his kissable mouth. “Nope. Sorry to disappoint.”
But Nix could never disappoint me. The way he acted as if these revelations that troubled me were irrelevant made me feel maybe they really were. Maybe it didn’t matter if Truby was my father. Maybe I shouldn’t hate myself for all the violence that had caused my life and marked it since.
I swallowed a sudden rise of emotion at the thought. It had been a wild few weeks emotionally, from losing Liam to having to flee the academy. I couldn’t afford a breakdown.
I certainly deserved a breakdown, but it was going to have to be postponed.
“You going to show me your place?” I asked lightly.
“It’s not much,” he said. “But we should be safe here. Once we get settled, I’m going to go out and put up the wards in case any of our other friends find us.”
He raised his arm in a sweeping gesture toward the cabin.
“Home sweet home,” he said. “For the night, at least.”
It wasn’t home, not even close. But at least wherever I was, when I was with Nix, I felt safe.
Chapter Ten
Nix led me into the hunting cabin. It was cold in here, almost as cold as it was outside, and he quickly headed back past me to the porch. He came back a minute later with an armful of wood.
He smelled of clean, fresh air when he brushed past me and knelt at a wood stove in the corner of the living room. The cabin was one room, with a couch in front of the wood stove and a table tucked by the kitchen. Above us was a narrow loft with a ladder to reach it.
“It’ll be warm in here in a while,” he said, building the fire. “Sorry.”
“I’m not going to complain.” I wandered the room. There were photos hanging on the wall.
In all the photos, Nix stood out, dark-haired and icy-eyed in a family of tan skin and sun-streaked blond hair. But he smiled with ease I never saw from Nix now. In the photos, he was surrounded by his parents and a girl who looked close in age to him.
He closed the wood stove door with a clink, and I startled. I was worried he’d be annoyed at how nosy I was, but instead, he joined me. His shoulder brushed mine.
“That’s my sister Rory,” he said, pointing to the girl with her arm slung around him. In that photo, they were just kids, gap-toothed and grinning.
Seeing them made pain tighten my chest. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry, but I knew firsthand how meaningless those words feel when you’ve lost someone.
“They were Hunters too,” I said.
He nodded. “Yeah. Rory looked like the sweetest, softest, bubbliest blond anyone ever met. The covens and the vampires never saw her coming. She got it from my mom.”
“What was she like?”
“Rory and I were close as thieves and far worse behaved,” he said, a smile parting his lips. “My mother had the patience of a saint. She was always so kind, so warm…” His smile twisted into something far more rueful. “You can tell we were never blood.”
“Family’s not blood,” I reminded him, nudging his shoulder. It was a thought I had to cling to right now when Truby was my blood and my true father, who had loved me so much, had not been.
Nix nodded. “You’re right. Blood doesn’t matter. I just mean she had a gentleness. She kicked a
ss, but she was so good with anyone who was scared, or lost, or hurt.”
I thought of the way he’d held me when I was on the verge of losing control of my magic. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”
He paused, emotion flashing over his face, as if he was unwilling to speak for a second. To cover us both, I asked, “What about your dad?”
Nix’s father aged through the photos, from a young man with a big jaw and unruly blond hair to a man with lined eyes and a ginger beard. But in the photos with his kids, there was a glint of pride in his eyes when he looked at Nix and Rory that made me ache.
Nix had lost so much.
The last thing he had was the academy, and he’d left it behind for me without even admitting it was a sacrifice.
“He was tough,” Nix said. “As much of an asshole at times as she was an angel. But he was definitely one of the good guys.”
His lips quirked to one side. “He probably never would have guessed it from the shit I said to him when I was a teenager, but I miss him so much. Every day.”
At the sight of the sadness in his eyes, pain ached in my heart.
I twined my fingers in his, taking his hand. He glanced down at me with a faint smile.
“I wish Rory was here,” he said. “She’d like you. I bet you’d be good friends.”
“I bet we would.”
He squeezed my hand gently. “Thanks.”
“Thanks for what?”
“Asking about them. Letting me talk about them. The worst part of losing someone is not being able to talk about them without everything being awkward…”
God, he was saying the same thing I always thought, but I never heard anyone else say it out loud. “I know.”
“You can always talk to me about Liam and your parents, you know,” he said.
Sudden tears sprung to my eyes. I’d felt so alone after losing Liam, who had kept my parents alive for me. But maybe Nix and I would be there for each other and take care of each other.
“It’s going to be all right, Deathwish,” Nix said, his voice suddenly gruff. “I know the past month has been a rough one…”
Most men were afraid of tears. But Nix was trying so hard to be patient and be here for me.
I shook my head as I blinked hard, trying to force the tears away. When he wiped my tears away with his thumb, his touch was gentle.
“I’m going out to put the wards up,” he said. “Stay here and get warm. I’ll be right back.”
Normally, I’d insist on going with him. But for now, I nodded.
Nix took a step away. Then, as if he saw something in my face, he suddenly stepped forward and wrapped me in a tight hug. I breathed in the scent of the soap he’d used that morning in the shower, the faint warm musky scent of his body, and the fresh air and wood smoke that clung to his clothes. He smelled so good, and having his powerful arms wrapped around me made me feel warm and safe.
I squeezed his lean, taut waist. He almost seemed reluctant to leave, but he pulled away and headed across the small living room to the coat closet. When he opened it, I glimpsed weapons, not coats. He slung a sword with its sheath and harness over his shoulders, then stepped out.
When the front door closed behind him, the cabin seemed too empty. There were small sounds from the fireplace as logs popped and settled and the flames crackled. I busied myself with small chores around the cabin, looking for ways to make myself useful.
There were non-perishables stashed in the kitchen cabinets in plastic tubs to keep them safe from animals. It looked like Nix had been the one to stock the cabin, because there was little here but Pop-Tarts and beer. I smiled as I slipped the top back on and left it on the countertop.
What was happening between Nix and me?
I’d been drawn to him since I met him. He was built like a god, with an equally handsome face, and his dark hair and vivid blue eyes were magnetic. Plus he was so competent with his fists or with a sword. He was dangerous and protective all at the same time.
But what drove me the craziest about him was that he seemed to understand the worst, most broken places in my soul. He didn’t seem to mind them one bit.
Chiseled abs and beautiful eyes are all well and good.
But maybe what we all desire most is to be truly seen and understood, and then loved anyway.
Chapter Eleven
I checked the fire in the woodstove—I didn’t actually know the first thing about keeping a fire going, but I did open the little metal door and look inside, so I tried—and then headed out to find Nix.
It was frigid outside. There were still a few wayward autumn leaves clinging to the trees, but big, fat flakes of snow had begun to fall. The crisp scent of late fall was in the air as a stern breeze swept around me, rifling my hair.
I walked down the driveway, searching for Nix.
He emerged from between the trees, his face taut with worry. “What’s wrong?”
“I just came to see if I could help.”
“You could help by staying in the cabin where I knew you were safe and warm,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows at him, crossing my arms over my chest.
“When you look at me like that, Deathwish…” he muttered.
“What?” I demanded.
He just shook his head.
“I’m no damsel in distress,” I said. “I know that my magic doesn’t quite work right, but there has to be something I can do.”
He hesitated. Then he said, “Okay. You want to try to set the last of these wards with me?”
“Lead on.”
The two of us trudged through the trees. The wind was really howling around us now, and I crossed my arms over my chest as it cut through my new coat. I couldn’t complain now.
“The first ward will tell me—well, us now—if anyone crosses the line,” he said. “The second should help repel anyone who wants to do us harm. So if Cade and Tris come to meet up with us, they’ll be able to pass.”
I nodded. The thought of seeing Cade and Tris again was so comforting, for some reason, even though that was selfish. They were better off at the academy.
He showed me how to carve the wards into the earth, which was frozen solid. When he pressed his hand to it and murmured the words of his spell, the earth seemed to glow under his hand, but it might just have been a trick of the light.
“You try to set the second ward,” he told me, once he’d taught me the words to the spell.
The spells didn’t matter—not exactly—but the hardest part of using magic was controlling it. The words helped focus our attention.
I stripped off my gloves, then pressed my hand to the earth, which was hard and cold beneath my fingertips. No matter how hard I concentrated, nothing happened.
“It’s all right,” Nix told me. He rubbed his hand across my shoulder, as if he realized how disappointed I was in myself. “You’ll get it.”
I froze at his touch. I didn’t want him to realize how much that small touch of his meant to me.
But the ground betrayed me.
Suddenly the earth was soft under my hand. I looked down, frowning, as my fingers sank into mud.
Little sprouts curled out of the muck, unfurling bright green against the dead grass and the dark mud. Buds formed as we watched, then unfurled into flowers in vibrant colors: pinks, reds, oranges. It was beautiful, but it didn’t make any sense.
“Holy shit.” Nix rose to his feet, his hand leaving my shoulder.
Without his touch, cold seemed to seep through my jacket again, and I crossed my arms. As I stared at the flowers, fear ran cold through my stomach.
I looked to Nix for his reaction, but he grinned. “Deidra. You’re supposed to be a badass. What’s with the flower magic?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Your spell must have gone wrong,” he said, frowning. “I didn’t hear you mispronounce any words, but maybe your focus—”
I didn’t want to tell him, but I had to. It was more important that
I mastered my magic than that I escaped embarrassment.
“I don’t think that’s it,” I broke in as I stood too, accidentally trampling some of the little flowers underfoot. They had stopped growing when Nix stopped touching me. “Remember how Tristan touched me when you were healing me, and all the pain of the healing went away?”
“You think Tris has magic?” he frowned.
“No,” I said. “I think I have magic that changes when you… when one of you…”
The slow smile arching across his lips told me he knew exactly what I was trying to say. But he raised his eyebrows, as if he was encouraging me to go on.
“Don’t be an ass,” I said in exasperation.
“If you’re not grown enough to talk about feelings or sex, you’re not old enough for it, D,” he said.
I pushed his shoulder, but the boy was a brick wall and didn’t move. “You’re so condescending sometimes.”
“And yet, despite my flaws, you still think we could have… sex magic?” His eyebrows arched.
He was definitely amused.
“Is that a thing?” I demanded doggedly. I was not going to be distracted by the beautiful man teasing me about sex magic. “Does it appear in any of the lore?”
“Not that I’ve seen.”
I crossed my arms. I felt so uncertain.
“Do you think we should kiss?” he asked, his voice still amused. “For science?”
“Maybe.”
“Because I have plenty of reasons to kiss you, Deathwish, and I don’t mind adding science to the list.” He looked at me with warm affection, no matter how teasing he was.
“When you’ve just been such a jerk to me, I think maybe we should stick with science,” I said loftily, crooking my finger at him.
He stepped in toward me, his hands cupping my hips. When his body swayed toward mine, sudden lightness rose in my chest.
“Oh, I’m a jerk?” he teased. His lips nuzzled the side of my throat, finding a spot just above my collar that made my breath freeze in my chest as heat pooled between my thighs.
“An insufferable one.”
His hands tightened on my hips, his fingers sinking deep into the curve of my ass that just stroked the fire between us harder. His teeth grazed my throat, sucking a bruise; the sweet mix of pleasure and pain had me tilting my head back, welcoming him in.